“What?No.I had no idea—”
“You’re not answerable to him.”Blaine was very sure of that.Marrick was answerable to two people—him and Luther—no one else.Except possibly Arslan, some conscientious part of Blaine’s brain forced him to mentally add.He was pretty sure the whole world was answerable to Arslan.
“He’s the dungeon monitor,” Marrick said.
Blaine looked across at the man in the doorway, not quite willing to admit complete ignorance of the term in front of either Marrick or the other men.A glance at Luther showed he had no more idea what the words meant than he did.
“He makes sure no one gets hurt at the club,” Marrick explained.
“You weren’t doing your job,” Luther quickly informed the monitor.“He was hurting Marrick.”He pointed out the man who’d held the whip.
“It was…” Marrick turned and looked up at him.For the first time, he didn’t look confused as hell.“You thought he was hurting me...”
“He was.We saw—”
Marrick shook his head.
“Arslan is on his way.”The words were whispered to the lead human—the dungeon whatever the hell he was called.It took the hearing of a lion to make it out, but Arslan’s name caught both his and Luther’s attention very thoroughly.
They hadn’t done anything wrong.Arslan might not really approve of them being there, but he’d definitely approve of them stopping anyone hurting Marrick—Blaine had never been more certain of anything in his life.
Humans had to be looked after—Arslan was the lion who’d taught them that in the first place—and Marrick was their human.
The dungeon monitor looked at the three of them, each in turn, as if he had no idea what to do with them.
“They can’t stay in here,” one of the men whispered behind them.
The monitor sighed.“You can all wait for him in one of the back rooms,” he announced eventually.
“We’re leaving,” Blaine said.
Marrick looked up and met his eyes.“I’m not going anywhere.”
Arslan had also taught them that humans required patience—a lot of patience.
“We’ll stay until Arslan arrives,” Luther suggested as a compromise.Then, Arslan could deal with the other humans, and they could be left in peace with Marrick.
Yes, that plan had merit.Blaine nodded his agreement.
*
They were the lions.
Marrick repeated the fact over and over inside his head.
They were the lions.As he closed his eyes, the images of the two men snapped into place within his memories of that night.He’d played the scene over and over in his head so often over the last couple of weeks.He hadn’t thought anything could be better than what his imagination had cooked up to fill in for his lack of vision.But, damn, he’d never guessed the guys he’d screwed lookedthathot!
Enticingly dishevelled blond hair, gorgeously golden skin, and line upon line of muscle.They looked like Hollywood film stars, beamed down into the middle of a kinky club.And, currently, one of them was the before the disaster struck picture, while the other was the after shot.
The clothes worn by the guy who’d pinned Huntley to the wall were ripped in some really interesting places, as if he’d somehow half-torn them off himself from the inside out.His jeans were split, along the right side of his crotch.The only pity was that he’d obviously decided to dress to the left that day.
The guy who’d joined Marrick on the stage first was more fully clothed than the other, and he had a more serious expression, but those were almost the only differences between them at first glance.
Marrick looked from one lion to the other as they paced around the small room at the back of the club like caged animals.Like lions at the zoo… Bowing his head as he rested his forearms on his knees, Marrick fought back a ridiculous urge to burst into fits of laugher.
He was sure neither lion would be impressed if he gave in to temptation to giggle.He doubted the dominants still lurking in the room would love him for it either.He had the vague suspicion that they all already thought he was far more trouble than he was worth.
The more junior dominants had been ushered out of the room ages ago.Only four of the older doms remained now—two by the door and two flanking the sofa where Marrick had been ordered to sit.
